Search: Interview
by Kaye L
Summary: The woman who might be Max's mom has a story to tell...


" I think I'm your daughter." The woman nodded. "Come in. We're going to need to talk." Max remembered Logan. "Um, I left my friend in the car." "Well bring him in before the next Ice Age." Max went back to the car. "She looks like you." Logan said. Max just nodded, dazedly. He wheeled himself up the path, then spotted a problem. The door stoop had stairs. "Max? Can you give me hand here?" he mumbled, embarrassed. Max just gripped both sides of the wheelchair. "Hold on." She lifted the whole thing up the stairs and through the door. If she hadn't turned her head at that moment, Max would have missed the look of horror and recognition the flickered across the woman's face. _Would she know what I am, if she is my mother? What they did to us?_ Max wondered .

Just then a young girl who could have _been_ a five-year-old Max dashed into the hall. "Mommy, Cole won't let me use the paints!" The woman sighed. "Tell him I said he has to share. And play in the yard for a while, Mommy had some guests, okay?" The kid nodded, then ran off. She turned back to them. "Now, let's talk."

Logan set a tape recorder on the table. "Is your name Madrigal Lillian Guevara?" "Yes." 

"Tell us everything you know." She glanced at him. "Do you really need to tape this?" Logan nodded. "Sorry, but I'll have to check your story." She took a deep breath. "Alright. In 1999, I was twenty. I got pregnant-" she looked at Max. "But I don't know how. I wasn't seeing anyone, the police said it was this psycho who was injecting women. I think 12 or so. They had a profile, but they never caught him. I couldn't go to my family, so I just ran off from college in the middle of the night." She looked around wistfully. "I was on a scholarship. I went to this clinic. They said the guy might still be after me, said I should go to this victims place in Wyoming." She was crying now, and said pleadingly to Max. "I didn't know. The doctors there said they needed to correct something with my baby, a genetic thing with gene therapy. Something-or-other's syndrome. They treated me like I was an experiment-" Max took in a audiable breath. "- but, I just thought it was doctors. One of the dieticians was nice. She used to sneak me and the other girls in Snicker's Bars™ and cookies. I only saw the other girls when they got taken away to be induced. I got suspicious after they wanted to add cat genes to the pills. They just strapped me down and did surgurey instead. I tried to break out, but I was in my third trimester, and couldn't run too fast. They induced labor that night. I just got one look at my baby before I went out cold from drugs. All I heard them say was it was a girl." 

Max was walking around the house while Logan finished the interview. The house was crammed with couches, tables, books, kid's toys and artwork. A half-finished quilt being made out of t-shirts was on a table in the living room. _Who are these kids and why are they calling me Mom?_ read one. "Boo!" Max almost jumped. "You surprised me." She told the young girl. "Nothing 'prises me!" the little girl cocked her head at Max. " Who're you and the guy with glasses? I'm Madrienne. But you can call me Madri." Max smiled. "I'm Max. The guy with glasses is Logan." "Wanna see the upstairs?" Max nodded. "Follow me." Madri swung open a clock to reveal a staircase. "My mommy says this used to be a secret, but she opened it up and put in the bathroom and me 'n Cole's room." Max followed Madri up the steep stairs. "That's Mommy's room," she pointed to a closed door on the left. "Here's mine." The room was small, painted blue with bookcases, a desk, and bunkbeds with an 8-or-so boy sitting on the top one. "Madri! Don't you ever kock?" he said furiosly. "'s my room too, _Mole_. This is Max." The boy studied her for a moment. "Sorry, I'm Cole. Madri's a pain sometimes." "Am NOT!" _Why did she have other kids?_ Max wondered increduosly _If she even had a genetically engineered one in the first place._ Max tried to ignored the tightening feeling in her stomach. "Madri, Max, Cole! Get down here ! Dinner!"

Logan was already at the table when they got down. Max sat between him and Madri. Cole and Madrigal occupied the other side. "It's homemade macaroni and cheese. Madri, I see that, put the broccoli back on your plate." She did so with a sulk, and Logan was unsuccessfully biting back a smile. "So, where are you two living? What do you you do for a living? I told you, you tell me." Madrigal asked. "Seattle." Max responded. "I'm a bike messenger, Logan's a-" "Private dectective." He interrupted firmly. Then it's way too late for you to drive back. Checkpoints would be suspicious, too. Max, you can stay in the extra cot in my room, sorry Logan, you get the couch. How did you two meet?" Madrigal asked. Logan went beet red and Max grinned. "Um, Ms. Guevara-" "Call me Madrigal." she snapped. "Ms- Madrigal, Max and I aren't…" "I meant, is how did you get to be working together? Shame though, you'd be something together." Cole smirked empathicly at a Logan. _She's like that with everybody,_ his look read. "Oh, Logan had a piece of art I was looking at. He talked me into helping with some research." Max put in smoothly. "Do you comb your hair straight up?" Madri asked Logan. "Madri!" her mother interjected, but Logan laughed. "No, actually I just never comb it at all." He informed her.

Once Cole and Madri had been sent to bed, Madrigal's voice dropped to a whisper. "How long will it take to find out?" "My friend should have results within the next day." Max looked at Logan sorrowfully. _I waited eighteen years, _she thought_, but I don't know if I'll last one more._

Well, didja like it? Puh-leeze review, my writing thrives on feedback, good or bad. I know this one was boring, but wait'll the next :~)


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